I Can Be BadAss To
by NaviTheMystikOne
Summary: Sakura Is A Rich North Sider Has Everything A Girl Could Want. Big House, Perfect Body, Beautiful Face, and Last But Not Least The "Hottest" Boyfriend. Sasuke Is A Poor South Sider and Has Nothing But His Friends and Family, But He Also Has A Hot Body and Sexy Face but Is Single Get The Idea c;


**Hey Guys Aujunae Here ^-^ I Do Not Own Naruto Nor Do I Own This Story I Am Simply Adding On and Making More Chapters To Complete It ... Hmm If You Want The Original Story I Don't Know How To Tell Ya xD**

**Anywhore Here We Go**

"Get up, Sasuke."

I scowl at my little brother and bury my head under my pillow. Since I share a room with my eleven- and twenty-year old brothers, there's no escape except for the little privacy a lone pillow can give.

"Leave me alone, Ichigo," I say roughly through the pillow. "I don't want to be fucked with at the moment."

"I'm not fuckin' with you. Momma told me to wake you so you won't be late for school."

Senior year. Great. Just fucking great. I should be proud I'll be the next Uchiha family member in the household to graduate high school... But after graduation, real life will start. College isn't just a dream. Senior year for me is like a retirement party for a sixty-five-year old. You know you can do more, but everyone expects you to quit.

"I'm all dressed in my new clothes," Ichigo proud but muffled voice comes through the pillow. "The chicks won't be able to resist this Uchiha stud."

"Good for you," I mumble.

"Momma said I should pour this pitcher of water on you if you don't get up."

Was privacy too much to ask for? I take my pillow and chuck it across the room. It's a direct hit. The water splashes all over him.

"Damn!" He screams at me. "These are the only new clothes I got."

A fit of laughter is coming through the bedroom door. Itachi, my other, older brother, is laughing like a frickin' hyena. That is, until Ichigo jumps him. I watch the fight spiral out of control as my brothers punch and kick each other.

They're good fighters, I think proudly as I watch them duke it out. But as the one of the oldest males in the house, it's my duty to break it up. I grab the collar of Itachi's shirt but trip Ichigo's leg and land on the floor with them. Before I can regain my balance, icy cold water is poured on my back. Turning aburptly, I catch mom dousing us all, a bucket poised in her fist above us while she's wearing her work kimono. She works as a tea-maker for the local tea shop a couple of blocks from our house. It doesn't pay a whole heck of a lot, but we don't need much.

"Get up," she sternly orders, her unseen fiery attitude out in full mode. She is a generous woman but is VERY fiery at disorganization.

"Crap, Ma," Ichigo says, standing.

Mom takes what's left in her bucket, sticks her fingers in the chilling, cold water, and flicks the liquid in Ichigo's face.

Itachi let's out snicker and before he knows it, he gets flicked with the water as well. Will they ever learn?

"More childness, Itachi?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, ma'am," He says, standing as staright as a soldier. Mom smiles warmly at his response, then turns to Ichigo with now narrowed eyes. "You have any more filthy words to come out of that mouth of yours, Ichigo?" She dips her hand in the water as a warning.

"No, ma'am." Echoes soldier number two.

"And what about you, Sasuke Uchiha?" Her eyes narrow even further, into slits as she focuses on me.

"What? I was attempting to break it up," I say innocently, giving her my smug-you-can't-resist-me-smile.

She flicks water in my face before letting out a blissful and warm laugh. "That's for not breaking it up sooner. Now get dressed, all of you, and come eat breakfast before school."

So much for my smug-you-can't-resist-me-smile. "You know you love us," I call after her as she leaves our room.

After a quick shower, I walk back to my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my waist. I catch sight of Ichigo with one of my hetai-ates tied to his forehead and my gut tightens. I yank it off him. "Don't ever touch this, Ichigo." I snap.

"Why not?" He asks, his deep onyx eyes resembling my mother's, all innocent.

To Ichigo, it's a hetai-ate. To me, it's a symbol of what is and will never be. How the hell am I supposed to explain it to an eleven-year-old kid? He knows what I am. It's no secret that the hetai-ate has the Uchiha colors on it. Payback and revenge got in and now there's no way out. But I'll die before I let one of my brothers get sucked in.

I clutch the hetai-ate in my hand, tightly. "Ichigo, don't touch my shit. Especially my Uchiha stuff. It's an emo thing. You wouldn't understand." Everyone in the South-side call me an emo, for purposes.

"I like red and navy-blue."

That's the last thing I need to hear. "If I ever catch you wearin' it again, you'll be showing off black and blue... Not to mention sporting cuts," I tell him. "Got it, little brother?"

He shrugs. "Yeah, I got it."

As he leaves the room with a spring in his step, I wonder if he really does get it. I stop myself from thinking too hard about it as I stare at myself in the tall mirror that sits on the wall of the room, wooden door.

Small droplets of water drip from my jet black hair and I reach for another small towel, drying my hair with it. My slightly paled skin shines in the small light the sun cast through the open window of my room. I grab a white V-neck and black studded jacket and black skinnies with chains on them and vans. I tied hetai-ate around my for arm, right when I heard my mothers sweet voice.

"Sasuke Uchiha, come eat before the food gets cold. Hurry up, please."

"I'm comin'," I call back. I'll never understand why food is such an important part of her life. My brothers are already busy chowing down on their breakfast when I enter the kitchen. I open the fridge and scan its contents.

"Sit down."

"Mom, I'll just grab-"

"You'll grab nothing, Sasuke Uchiha. Sit. We're a family and we're going to eat like one... I made your favorite. Senbei, dango and fried eggs, with green tea."

I sigh, close the refrigerator door, and sit beside Itachi. Sometimes being a member of a close family has its disadvantages. I wouldn't mind being the sterotypical emo everyone seems to think its all about for once, where I isolate myself from others. I snort at the thought while mother places a heaping plate of senbei, fried eggs and dango in front of me.

"Why can't you just call me Sasuke?" I ask, my head down while I stare at the food in front of me.

"If I wanted to just call you Sasuke, then I wouldn't have made you man of the household and call you by your full birth name. Don't you like your given name?" She says, taking a bite from her dango.

My muscles tense. I was named after one of the former Hokages who is no longer alive. I am now the man of the Uchiha household, not my clan, because my father is dead; This left me the responsiblity of being the designated man of the house. Sasuke, Sasuke Jr., Junior... It's all the same to me. Itachi maybe the oldest... But for some reason, my father appointed me to be the man of the house, should something happen to him.

"Would it matter?" I mumble as I pick up a piece of senbei. I look up, trying to gauge her reaction.

Her back is turned to me as she now cleans the dishes in the sink. "No." She answers in a low tone.

"Sasuke just doesn't want to be an Uchiha. He'd rather hang out with his weird friends," Ichigo chimes in. Now what the fuck has this damn kid being so ignorant, this morning? "You can't change your name, bro, but nobody'd mistake you for anything other than Uchiha... Or emo..." Ichigo tried to whisper that last part.

"Ichigo, shut your mouth." I warn. I don't not want to be an Uchiha. And I am not an emo. I just don't want to be associated with my father at the moment.

"Please, you two," our mother pleads. "Enough fighting for one day."

"Wetback," Ichigo sings, egging me on by calling me a wetback.

I've had enough of Ichigo's mouth; he's gone too far. I stand, my chair scraping against the floor. Ichigo follows and stands in front of me, closing the space between us. Itachi of course is blocking everyone out... It's only one time of the day when he jokes. And that was this morning. His eyes are closed and he massaging his temples while eating the food, mom put out in front of him.

Ichigo knows I can kick his ass. His overblown ego is gonna get him in trouble with the wrong person one of these days.

"Ichigo, sit down," Mom orders.

"Emo boy," He drawls at me in a fake sort of depressing tone. "Better yet, you're an Uchiha poser."

"Ichigo!" My mom reprimands sharply as she comes forward but I get in between them and grab my brother's collar.

"Yeah, that's all anyone will ever think of me," I tell him. "But you keep talkin' trash and they'll think that of you, too."

"Big Brother, they'll think that of me anyway. Whether I want them to or not." He says.

I release him. "You're wrong, Ichigo. You can do better. Acutally, be better."

"Than you?"

"Yeah, better than me and you know it," I retort. "Now apologize to mother for talking smack in front of her."

One look in my eyes and Ichigo knows I serious. "Sorry, Ma," He says, then sits back down. I don't miss that glare of his though, as his ego got knocked a peg down.

Mother opens the fridge, trying to hide her tears. Damn it, she's worried about Ichigo... He's a senior.. Pssh, in middle school and next year, which will be his first year in highschool is either going to make him or break him. I pull on my black leather jacket, needing to get out of here. I give my mother a peck on the cheek with an apology for ruining her breakfast, then walk outside wondering how I'm going to keep Ichigo away from my path while steering him toward a better one. Oh the fucking irony of it all.

And trust me, there's no need to worry about Itachi... He's doing his own thing. He's been like that ever since we were kids. But now, he older, has a girl-friend and is applying to many different colleges for the better of him. Neither me nor my mother has to tell him that he's doing something wrong. But they should tell me that I'm doing something wrong...

On the street, guys in the same color hentai-ates or bandannas flag the Uchiha clan signal: right hand tapping twice on their left arm while their ring finger is bent. My veins fire up as I flag right back before staddling my motorcycle. They want a tough-as-nails-no-fucking-milk-added gang member, they got one. I put on a hell of a show to the outside world; sometimes I even surprise myself.

"Sasuke, wait up," A familiar female voice calls out.

Ino Yamanaka, my neighbor and ex-girlfriend, runs up to me.

"Hey, Ino," I mutter, rolling my onyx colored eyes a bit.

"How about giving me a ride to school?"

Her short purple skirt shows off her incredible legs, and her shirt is tight, accentuating her small but perky tits. Once I would have done anything for her, but that was before I caught her in another guy's bed over the summer. Or car, as it was.

"Come on, Sasuke. I promise not to bite... Unless you want me to."

Ino may not be an Uchiha... But her family has had a close-ally relationship with our clan, so she's my Uchiha homegirl. Whether we're a couple or not, we still have each other's backs. It's the code we live by. Every Uchiha has accepted her as one of us. "Get on," I say.

Ino hops on my motorcycle and deliberately places her hands on my thighs, pressing against my backside. It doesn't have the effect she was probably hoping for. What does she think, that I'll forget my past? No fucking way. My history defines who I am.

I try to focus on starting my senior yeat at Konoha High, the here and now. It's damn difficult because, unfortunately, after graduation my future will likely be screwed up as my past.

* * *

**Sakura**

Everyone knows I'm perfect. My life is perfect. My clothes are perfect. And although it's a complete lie, I've worked my ass off to keep up the appearance that I have it all. The truth, if it were to come out, would ruin my picture perfect image.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, while humming quietly to myself, I I Drew a perfect eyeliner tail around my eye and added the eyelashes. My hands are shaking, damn it... Starting senior year in highschool and seeing my boy-friend (of four amazing years) after a summer apart shouldn't be so nerve-racking or irritating, but I've got off to a disatorous start...

First, my straightening iron sent up smoke-signals and died. Then my cotton-candy pink hair (naturally, of course) decided not to stay in it's naturally bouncy condition. Then, the button on one of my favorite shirts popped off. If I had a choice of my own, I'd stay in my super-comfy bed and eat warm chocolate chip cookies all day.

"Sakurako, come down," I faintly hear my mom yelling from the foyer. She likes to call me, "Sakurako" on occasions, which means 'Little Cherry-Blossom'; it's a "nickname" for me.

My instinct is to ignore her, but that never gets me anything ut arguements, head-aches, and more yelling.

"I'll be there in a sec'," I call down, hoping I can get this eyeliner to go on straight and be done with it.

Finally getting it right, I toss the eyeliner tube on the counter, double and triple check myself and hurry down the hallway.

My mom is standing at the stair-case at the bottom of our grand staircase, scanning my outfit I am wearing a white dress with blue flowers at mid-thigh also a blue jean jacket reaching just under the breast and no sleeves, with a goddess band around my straightened hair and blue earrings, also my strawberry vanilla perfume with a hint of lavender,not to mention white, open-toed wedges. I straighten. I know, I know. I'm eighteen and I shouldn't care what my mom thinks. But you haven't lived in the Haruno household. My mom has anxiety. Not the kind easily controlled with blue little pills. And when my mom is stressed, everyone living with her suffers.

"Hate The Earing,Love The Shoes ," Mom says pointing her index finger at each item. "And, as for your hair... I think you could have straightened it a little better. But thank goodness it's looking healthy and bounces."

She referred to my cotton-candy pink hair, with curled tips and two bangs, covering my huge fucking fore-head. I would roll my eyes, but she's in front of me.

"Good morning to you, too, Mother," I say before walking down the stares and giving her a peck on the cheek. The smell of my mom's strong cherry blossom perfume stings my nostrils the closer I get... I think she overdid it. My mom makes different perfumes... And she totally got the whole cherry blossom scent wrong. But she already looks like a million bucks in her tennis dress. No one can point a finger and criticise her outfit, that's for sure.

"I brought you your favorite muffin for the first day of school," Mom say, pulling out a bag from behind her back.

"No, thanks," I say, looking around for my sister. "Where's Yoshiko?"

"In the kitchen."

"Is her new caretaker here yet?"

"Her name is Aki, and no. She's coming in an hour."

"Did you tell her that wool irritates Yoshiko's skin? And that she pulls hair?" She's always let it be known in her nonverbal cues she gets irritated by the feeling of wool on her skin. Pulling hair is a new thing, and it has caused a few disasters. Disasters in my house are about as pretty as a car wreck, so avoiding them is crucial.

"Yes. And yes. I gave your sister an earful this morning, Sakura. If she keeps acting up, we'll find ourselves our of another caretaker."

I walk into the kitchen, not wanting to hear my mother go on and on about her theories of why Yoshiko lashes out. Yoshiko is sitting in her wheelchair, busily eating her specially blended food because, even at the age of twenty, my sister doesn't have the ability to chew and swallow like people without her physical limitations. As usual, the food has found it's way onto her chin, lips and cheeks.

"Hey, Yoshi!" I exclaim, leaning over her and wiping her face with a napkin. "It's the first day of school. Wish me luck."

Yoshi holds jerky arms out and gives me a lopsided smile. I love that smile.

"You want to give me a hug?" I ask her, knowing she does. The doctor always tells us the more interaction Yoshiko gets, the better off she'll be.

Yoshi nods. I fold myself in her arms, careful to keep her hands away from my hair.

I run back upstairs, taking two steps at a time. When I get to my bedroom, I check my watch. Oh, no. It's ten after seven. My best friend, Ten-Ten, is gonna freak out if I'm late picking her up. Grabbing my blue studded shoulder bag and white iPhone , I descended

When I come back down the stairs, my mother is standing in the foyer, scanning my appearance again. "Love the bag."

Phew.

As I pass her, she shoves the muffin into my hand. "Eat it on the way."

I take the muffin. Walking to my car, I absently bite into it. Unfortunately it isn't blueberry, my favorite. It's banana nut, and the bananas are overdone. It reminds me of myself: seemingly perfect on the outside, but the inside is all mush.

***Moments Later***

"My hair gets all frizzy in this car, Ten-Ten. Every time I put the top down, my hair looks like I've walked through a tornado," I say to my best friend as I driveon Vine Street toward Konoha High in my new silver convertible.

"Outward appearances mean everything." My parents taught me the motto that rules my like. It's the sole reason I didn't comment about the BMW when my dad gave me the extravagant and expensive birthday present two weeks ago.

"We live a half hour from the Windy City," Ten-Ten retorts, holding her hand in the wind as we drive. "Konoha isn't exactly known for its calm weather. Besides, you look like a pinkette, goddes with wild hair, Saku. You're just nervous about seeing Hidan again."

My gaze wanders to the heart-shaped picture of me and Hidan taped to my dashboard. "A summer apart changes people."

"Distances makes the heart grow fonder," Ten-Ten throws back. "You're captin of the pom squad and he's captin of the varsity football team. You two have to date or the solar system would go out of alignment."

Hidan called a few times during the summer from his family's cabin, where he was hanging out with his buddies, but I don't know where our relationship stands now. He just got back last night.

"I Love Those Shoes," Ten-Ten says, eyeing my matching dark red pleated skirt. "I'll be borrowing them before you know it."

"My mom hates it," I tell her, smoothing my hair at a stoplight, trying to tame my pink frizzies. "She says it looks like I got it at a vintage, kid's clothing store."

"Did you tell her that shoes like that is in?"

"Yeah, like she'd even listen. She hardly paid attention when I asked her about the new caretaker."

"No one understands what it's like at my house. Luckily, I have Ten-Ten. She might not understand, but she knows enough to listen and keep home life confidential. Besides Hidan, Ten-Ten is the only one who's met my sister.

Ten-Ten flips open my CD case. "What happen to the last care-taker?"

"Yoshiko pulled out a chunk of her hair."

"Ouch."

I drive into the school parking lot with my mind more on my sister than the road. My wheels screech to a stop when I almost hit a guy and a girl on a motorcycle. I thought it was an empty parking space.

"Watch it, bitch," Ino Yamanaka, the girl on the back of the motocycle, says as she gives me the finger.

She obviously missed the Road Range lecture in Driver's Ed.

"Sorry," I say loudly so I can be heard over the roar of the motocycle. "It didn't look like anyone was in this spot."

Then I relalized whose motorcycle I almost hit. The driver turns around. Angry onyx colored eyes.

Navy blue hetai-ate. I sink down into the driver's seat as far as I can.

"Oh, shit! It's Sasuke Uchiha," I panic, wincing.

"Jesus, Saku," Ten-Ten says in a low tone. "I'd like to live to see graduation. Get outta here before he decides to kill us both."

Sasuke is staring at me with his devil eyes while putting the kickstand down on his motorcycle. Is he going to confront me?

I reach for reverse, frantically moving the stick back and forth. Of course it's no surprise my dad brought me a car with a stick shift without taking the time to teach me how to master driving the thing. Sasuke takes a step toward my car. My instincts tell me to abandon the car and flee, as if I was stuck on railroad tracks with a train heading straight for me. I glance at Ten-Ten, who desperately searching through her purse for something. Is she kidding me?

"I can't get this damn car in reverse. I need help. What are you looking for?" I ask.

"Like... Nothing. I'm not trying to make eye contact with that Uchiha. Get a move on, will ya?" Ten-Ten responds through gritted teeth. "Besides, I only know how to drive an automatic."

Finally grinding into reverse, my wheels screech loud and hard as I maneuver backward and search for another parking spot.

After parking in the west lot, far from a certain gang member with a reputation that could scare off even the toughest Konoha football players, Ten-Ten and I walk up to the front steps of Konoha High. Unfortunately, Sasuke Uchiha and the rest of his gang friends are hanging by the front doors.

"Walk right past them," Ten-Ten mutters. "Whatever you do, don't look in their eyes."

It's pretty hard not to when Sasuke Uchiha steps right in front of me and blocks my path.

What's the prayer you're supposed to say right before you know you're going to die?

"You're a lousy driver," Sasuke says in his slight bleak accent and full-blown I-AM-THE-SHIT stance.

The guy might look like a model with his ripped bod and flawless face, but his picture is most likely to be taken for a mug shot.

The kids from the north side don't really mix with the kids from the south side. It's not that we think we're better than them, we're just different. We've grown up in the same town, but on opposite sides. We live in big houses in Konoha and they live next to the train tracks. We look, talk, act and dress different. I'm not saying it's good or bad; it's just the way it is in Konoha. And, to be honest, most of the south side girls treat me like Ino Yamanaka does... They hate me because of who I am.

Or, rather, who they think I am.

Sasuke's gaze slowly moves down my body, traveling the length of me before moving back up. It's not the first time a guy has checked me out, it's just that I never had a guy like Sasuke do it so blantantly... And so up-close. I can feel my face getting hot.

"Next time, watch where you're goin'," he says, his voice cool and controlled.

He's trying to bully me. He's a pro at this. I won't let him get to me and win his little game of intimidation, even if my stomach feels like I'm doing one hundred cartwheels in a row. I square my shoulders and sneer at him, the same sneer I use to push people away. "Thanks for the tip."

"If you need a real man to teach you how to drive, I can give you lessons."

Catcalls and whistles from his buddies set my blood boiling.

"If you were a real man, you'd open the door for me instead of blocking my way," I say, admiring my own comeback even as my knees threaten to buckle.

Sasuke steps back, pulls the door and bows likes he's my butler. He's totally mocking me, he knows it and I know it. Everyone knows it. I catch a glimspe of Ten-Ten, still desperately searching for nothing in her purse. She's clueless.

"Get a life," I tell him.

"Like yours? Darling, let me tell you somethin'," Sasuke says harshly. "Your like isn't reality, it's fake. Just like you."

"It's better than living my life as a loser," I lash out, hoping my words sting as much as his words did. "Just like you."

Grabbing Ten-Ten's arm, I pull her toward the open door. Catcalls and comments follow us as we walk into the school. I finally let out the breath I must have been holding, then turn to Ten-Ten. My best friend is staring at me, all bug eyed. "Holy shit, Sakura! You got a death wish or something?"

"What gives Sasuke Uchiha the right to bully everyone in his path?

"Uh, maybe the gun and kunai he has hidden in his pants or the gang colors he wears," Ten-Ten says, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"He's not stupid enough to carry a gun to school," I reason. "And I refused to be bullied, by him or anyone else." At school, at least. School is the one place I can keep up with my "perfect" facade; everyone at school buys it. Suddenly pumped about starting my last year at Konoha High, I shake Ten-Ten's shoulders. "We're seniors now," I say with the same enthusiasm I use for pom-pom routines during football games.

"So?"

"So, starting right now everything is going to be p-e-r-f-e-c-t." The bell rings. Ten-Ten starts walking down the hall. "I'll make sure you have a p-e-r-f-e-c-t funeral. With flowers and everything."

"Who fucking died?" A husky voice from behind me asks.

I turn around. It's Hidan, silver hair glowing from the summer sun and a cocky grin from cheek to cheek that could almost take up his whole face. I wish I had a mirror to see if my makeup is smudged. But surely Hidan will date me even if it is, won't he? I run up and give him the biggest hug.

He holds me tight, kisses me lightly on the lips and pulls back. "Who died?" He asks again.

"Nobody," I answer. Forget about it. Forget everything except being with me."

"It's easy when you look so damn hot." Hidan kisses me again, grabbing my butt this time. "Sorry I haven't called. It's been so fucking crazy unpacking and shit."

I smile up at him, glad our summer apart hasn't changed our relationship. The solar system is safe, atleast for now.

Hidan drapes his arm around my shoulders as the front doors to the school open. Sasuke and his friends burst through as if they're here to hijack the school. "Why do they even come to school?" Hidan mutters low so only I can hear. "Half of them'll probably fucking drop out before the year is over, anyway."

My gaze briefly meets Sasuke's and a shiver runs down my spine.

"I almost hit Sasuke Uchiha's motorcycle this morning," I tell Hidan once Sasuke is out of hearing range.

"You should have."

"Hidan..." I chide.

"Atleast it would have been an exciting first day. This school is boring as shit."

Boring? I almost got in a car accident, was flipped off by a girl from the south side, and was harassed by a dangerous gang member outside the school's front doors. If that was any indication of the resy of senior year, this school will be anything but boring.


End file.
